
P s 

3.519 
■ As&St] 

303 




Glassful! 
(kpigM°J?JX 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



Summer Songs 
In Idlenesse 

Katherine H. McDonald yackson 



33 




Boston: Richard G. Badger 

The G or ham Press : t 903 
Toronto: William Briggs 



Copyright 1903 by Richard G. Badger 
All Rights Reserved 



THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 

Two Copies Received 

APR \\ 1903 

Copyright Entry 

rYlm,. l-i-md 







Ptinted at Ihe Gorhavi Press, Boston 



To my nearest friend, my Father \ this little 
book is lovingly dedicated. 



Contents 



A June Idyll ... 


9 


The Chaplet of Sorrow - 


24 


Love's Retreat 


24 


The Return of Summer - 


24 


The Love- Wraith 


26 


To An Easter Lily 


27 


The Wildftower - 


28 


The Moonbeam and the Star 


3i 


Despair .... 


32 


Penthesilea ... 


32 


Persephone's Footsteps 


38 


Aftermath ... 


39 


Lost Love . - . - 


39 


The Dead Day - 


40 


Life 


41 


Hope - 


42 


A Legend of the Isles of Shoals - 


43 


Dead Love ... 


50 


The Rosary ... 


51 


The Hymn of the Lilies - 


51 


A Song- of June ... 


53 



Slumber- Song - - - - 57 

The Dr earn -Swing - 37 

The Fairies Linen - - 58 

The Wishing-Bird - - -59 

Heartsease - - - 60 

Dandelions - - - -61 

Lullaby - - - - -61 

The Magic Gate - - - -62 

The Sunbeam' s Hiding- Place - -63 

The Secret - - - -63 

The Palace of Delight - - -64. 

The Fairies' Spinning - - 6j 

The Crow's Song - - - -66 

Where S?in- Shades Grow - -67 

The Dream-Rabbit - - -68 

Cradle Song - - - -69 

The Concert - - - 70 

Hushaby - - - 71 



Summer Songs 
In Idlenesse 



A JUNE IDYLL 

I 
It was June. 

June the enchantress; glorious, golden June! 
Who, by the power of her beauty, won 
From Summer, in the ages long gone by, 
Promise, ere to his love she did consent, 
To deck her with more fulness of his gifts 
Than all the Months who him had held in sway: 
Mistresses of his fleeting, hot desire. 
And overcome by her great loveliness, 
The God of Sunshine, and of myriad flowers, 
Did to her pleading yield its full replete: 
So that the wanton comes to us, still clad 
In all the wondrous jewels granted her 
From Nature's treasure-house, the teeming 

Earth. 
And, seeing her thus clothed in emerald green, 
A garland of wild-roses on her hair, 
Whose curls are like young tendrils of a vine, 
Her lovely face so seeming innocent, — 
Summer with rapture hails her; and for leave 
To clasp her radiant form in close embrace, 
Pours ever fresh libations at her feet. 
'Tis in this wise that each succeeding year 
She, to our senses, doth more beautiful appear. 

II 
In early morn 

I wended forth to watch the World awake, 
And hear the wondrous voices of the Dawn 
That whispered, as the silent form of Night 
Passed, noiseless, to her unknown resting-place. 



Then, as the shadow of her garments grey 
Vanished before the rising of the Sun, 
The birds began to twitter, in the joy 
Of swift-returning Day; and in the east 
The opalescent tints that paint the sky 
Ere the great Orb of Light to human eye 
Is visible, 'gan change their pearly hues, 
And golden arrows shot through crimson clouds 
And the bright Sun-god all revealed stood: 
When in the air was heard the wordless hymn 
That Nature, through innumerable voices, 

chants 
At the return of Light, and Life, and Joy: 
While all entranced, I bowed my head before 
That majesty of harmony complete, 
Where never note of discord reached the ear. 
Thus smiling Earth makes each returning day 
One of Thanksgiving, and each morn does sing 
Thanksgiving Odes to the great Sun, her Royal 

King. 

Ill 
In my heart 

I pondered, as I watched the break of Day, 
What subtle influence o'er Man is cast 
To render him insensate to the joys 
Of life amidst the birds, and trees, and flowers. 
Why do we rather love to cast our lot 
Where the incessant grind of daily toil 
Can not but strike in our unwilling ears 
The strident notes of Sorrow, and of Care? 
Or else, in chatter of unwitting fools, 
We lose the heaven-born gift, to understand 
The mysteries of Silence, and of Rest. 
He who hath insight into the deep heart 
Of Nature, as revealed to inner mind, 

10 



Is happier in the quiet of the fields 
Than learned Fool or grave Philosopher, 
Who, in the train of speculative thought, 
looses the golden grain for which he gropes, 
And having fashioned from his weary brain 
A monument to enclose the precious seed, 
Finds, at the last, it has escaped his ken. 
For who can tell whence came the Germ of Iyife 
That, from the nebulae of Ages past 
Through endless forms has striven, and 
Man evolved at last? 

IV 
And musing thus, 

I traced my footsteps o'er a little bridge 
That crossed a brooklet in a shady place. 
Tall elms grew high, on either side the stream, 
And grasses long, in lush, green, tender tints, 
Where early dragon-flies were fluttering; 
And the bright iridescence of their wings 
Lent rainbow colors to the trembling air. 
An oriole had hung his nest on high, 
And golden-throated, lilted to his mate. 
The waters of the brooklet at my feet 
Dimpled and danced, reflecting fair the rays 
The Sun threw o'er its bosom. As I stood 
I caught the glimmer of a sweet wild-rose 
That turned it's pinky blossoms to the sky; 
And close beside it, nestling 'neath it's shade, 
A snow-white daisy nodded with the breeze; 
A tender flower with a heart of gold, 
The joy of all true lovers, who pretend 
To read the future by the old, old game 
Of "Love-me," "L,ove-me-not." For secret hid 



ii 



Within the clusters of those petals white, 

Ivies the soft charm that may true hearts in love 

unite. 

V 
While yet I paused, 

A robin, bolder than his comrades, came 
And settled on the railing of the bridge. 
As with his bright, dark eye he at me gazed, 
I silent stood, and closer still he came, 
Uttering sweet notes within his cheery throat; 
His red vest spread with Aldermanic pride. 
Anon he burst forth into joyous song, 
As suddenly he winged his swift, short, flight 
Into the green elm-branches overhead, 
Where, nesting, sat the Mother of his brood, 
Whose voice responded, rapturous, to his call. 
Dear, downy householders, whose throbbing 

hearts 
Are filled with that sweet love which kindled is 
By one small spark of Heaven's immortal flame, 
Which grants us all we know of things Divine. 
Poor tiny Redbreasts! Yours' the fate of all 
Whose lives are bound in ties of tenderness. 
To love is but to court a certain grief, 
For partings come, and Death spares never one. 
'Oh, cruel Master of the Fate of Man!' — 
My musings led me thus — 'whose fell, dread 

power 
Rends bleeding hearts, and turns them into 

stone, 
My soul revolts, as thy supremacy I grudging 

own.' 

VI 
Saddened I turned. 
In that sweet spot, no longer might I stay, 



12 



But wandered further in vain quest of peace: 
And 'neath a spreading chestnut, down I lay 
To watch the bees their honeyed stores increase. 
They sucked the nectar from the fragrant 

blooms, 
And darting in and out with gleaming breast, 
A humming-bird, led by the sweet perfumes, 
Flitted above my chosen place of rest. 
I watched his glistening throat, and heard the 

whirr 
His small wings made, as daintily he dipped 
His bill within the blossoms; nor made stir 
That might him startle, while his food he sipped. 
The tiny thing, like dart of quickened light, 
Vanished as suddenly as he had come; 
He seemed a living sunbeam, glancing bright; 
And, booming, still was heard the bee's low 

hum. 
The drowsy, still monotony of sound 
Had almost lulled my senses to repose, 
When starting up, I quickly glanced around, 
And instant to my feet I then arose. 

VII 
It was my Lady. 

Far fairer than the dawn itself, was she. 
She stood before me like some holy thing; 
A vision seen by saints of earlier days, 
Her beauty was so rare, so exquisite. 
Her pure soul gazed from those clear wells of 

love 
Her eyes; — so blue, the very sky above 
Might envy their calm depths of loveliness. 
All clad in white she stood, and on her lips 



A tender smile there hovered. On her breast 
A single rose, as white as her true soul, 
Heaved with her gentle breathing. Her soft 

hair 
Was all uncovered, and the sunbeams played 
Among those golden tresses, joyed to find 
They glory caught, what time they lingered 

there. 
So light had been her step, I had not known 
Her presence, till I heard the trailing sound 
Of her soft robes, as by my side she came. 
One little hand to me she now outstretched 
In gentle greeting; and upon my knee 
I dropped, and clasping it, kissed it right 

reverently. 

VIII 
Then by her side 

I wandered o'er the meadow, holding still 
Within mine own that cool, soft, tender palm, 
Which had within its keeping, all m}'self: — 
My love, my life, even my immortal soul. 
Her goodness was to me the present sign 
That Angels live through time in endless 

purity. 
And as we went, a silence as of joy 
Too deep for clothing with mere shells of words, 
Rested upon us; till at last we stood 
At entrance of a dim, enchanting wood, 
Before an ancient ruin, mantled o'er 
With clinging ivy, that in gentle wise 
Covered the black remains of blasted tower, 
Making the ugly, beautiful. Then she spoke 
And from those lips each word that fell, to me 
Was dearer than God's eloquence had been. 



14 



"See:" she exclaimed "how Time in kindliness 
Sends gentle ministrants to those in pain. 
That rugged ruin in its tender dress 
Foreshadows what a sorrowing soul may gain 
Through patient waiting 'neath the chastening 

rod; 
Even a closer hold on Nature, and on Nature's 

God." 

IX 

She paused, 

And I made answer "If through Time and space 
Of all Eternity, through ageless years, 
The end of Man to sorrow was foredoomed, 
Why have created that poor piece of clay? 
The being who alone has power to feel 
The anguish of an overweening grief, 
Through Memory, his heritage of life 
Unshared by happier creatures. Pain and woe 
Are, it is true, the common lot of all, 
But on the lower forms of life, forgetfulness 
Rests like a blessed balm, that cools the smart, 
And heals the bleeding wound's quick agony. 
It is not so with Man. The scar is there, 
And though the festering sore is all unseen 
It eats into the heart, and kills alike 
The kindliest impulses of love, and hope." 
I spoke in bitterness, but seeing then 
My words had caused that gentle one some pain, 
I begged her to forgive what I had said 
To hurt her; and we sat us down to rest 
Within the shade of that old ivied tower. 
And once again a silence o'er us fell; 
A silence that we loved, and understood, — 
I and my Gabrielle. 



15 



X 

Anon I rose, 

And gath'ring a cluster of young ivy-leaves 
I wove them in a crown of tender green, 
And placed the garland on my Lady's head. 
She smiled, and in her radiant beauty clad 
Like some fair vestal priestess did appear. 
The blackbirds trilled their high, sweet notes 

in air, 
And through the leaves the Sunlight filtered 

down, 
Making a golden network on the grass 
That spread beneath my Gabrielle's small feet. 
In the near background, gleamed a vivid 

splash: — 
A single buttercup. Some chance wind had 

blown 
Its parent seed into this spot remote, 
From distant meadow, that it might here shine 
To render still more beautiful one hallowed hour. 
For, in my Lady's presence, life to me 
Grew holy, from the all-pervading charm 
Of her pure innocence: which did proclaim 
The soul that was enshrined in her fair form 
To be within itself, a sacred thing, 
Which must, of right, lay claim to heritage 
Of everlasting peace. This, though a doubter, I, 
And given to railing both at Faiths and Creeds, 
Which oft are made a cloak for most unholy 

deeds. 

XI 

"Oh, Love!" I cried," That this fair hour could 

last: 
With you, my soul no more is overcast. 

16 



The tumults of my longing heart, are stilled, 
In your sweet presence, where each want is 

filled. 
The sun that shines upon your golden hair, 
I envy for his right to nestle there. 
Fain would I be the rose that fades upon your 

tender breast, 
That dying, I might cling the closer to my 

chosen rest.'' 

XII 
With pitying tears 

Gabrielle looked upon me, for she knew 
The lingering madness that was in my veins; 
And all her gentle heart went out to me 
As selfishly I uttered thus my plaint. 
Then did remorse reproach me, for I felt 
Her suffering was all akin to mine; 
And praying her forgiveness once again, 
I did entreat, that she to spare my love 
Would stay those tears which anguished all my 

soul. 
"And Sweet!" I said, in interval of calm, 
"I fain would read a sonnet to you here, 
The latest offspring of my fevered brain. 
For when at night the moon has gone to rest, 
And darkness mantles all the silent world 
Of blackness and of shadows, then the thought 
Of your fair image, set in saintliness, 
Prevents me from that last and lonely leap 
Into Eternal Silence: acd my brain 
Finds its relief in turning for your praise 
Verses and songs of simple melod}'." 
Thus spake I, and when I to read began, 
She lent her ear to my poor verses as they ran. 



17 



XIII 



SONNET 



'White Moon! Would I were cold and pure as 

thou. 
Shedding thy silent beauty over Earth; 
And veiling sullen Night's majestic brow 
With misty glory of ethereal birth. 
To the deep waters of the restless Sea 
Lending a matchless loveliness, the while 
They own thy sway, and longing, turn to thee, 
As fainting Darkness fades beneath thy smile. 
Yet not so cold, but that I might in love 
Upon my sleeping Ladj^'s pillow rest, 
Aud watch her heart-beats, like a fluttering dove 
Caged in the whiteness of her tender breast. 
Till in the ecstacy of that sweet place 
I floated, through Death's portals, into space.' 
I paused, and gazed into my Lady's face, 
And low sweet words she spoke, that thrilled 

my heart; 
The treasure of her pure and saint-like grace 
Dissolved the poison's sting, that caused my 

brain to throb and smart. 
As sunbeams in the trembling summer air 
Are held in thraldom by love of June, 
The discord of my being melted there 
Into one blest and all-pervading harmony of 

tune. 

XIV 

And o'er my thoughts 

There fell the twilight of the evening's calm, 



18 



And she the one lone Star of radiance clear 
Shining within my soul: as oftentimes 
When the last blush of sunset, speeding home, 
Has faded from the pallid cheek of Heaven, 
The first bright Star of eve in gracious pity- 
Rises, to lend new beauties to that face 
The Sun's departure had bereft of joy. 
So to mind the light of Gabrielle's love 
Lent calm: and stilled the wild tempestuous 

flood 
Of fantasies that seethed within my blood: 
My heritage — with those fair acres wide 
O'er which I hold the sway of ownership. 
Oh, darkling curse! the heaviest known to blight 
The human race down the far-reaching }'ears; 
Before the hour of birth thou art instilled 
Into the victim's veins, a poisoned taint. 
My vows are ta'en that I shall not impart 
This deadly seed to wreck another's fate. 
Yet could I cherish with o'erweening tenderness, 
Fair children — pledges of a fruitful love; 
Links 'twixt our fleshly passion, and fire born 

above. 

XV 

I^ife is a shadow that fleeteth down the long 

eons of Time, 
Till by Love's fire invoked, it assumeth a shape 

sublime: 
But soon, from the heart that enshrines it, 

flutters it forth again. 
Is it a Dream or Reality? Pleasure or Greater 

Pain? 



19 



Back to the shades it returneth; but who from 

their dimness will speak 
Or give up the secret they cherish, to those 

who in sorrow shall seek? 
Sadness is struck from the Harp-strings that 

rest in invisible hands; 
Tears are the notes of their music, a grief-laden 

soul understands. 



Pleadings are answered by Silence; white are 

Love's ashes and cold; 
Truth is enshrouded in mystery, nor will the 

secret unfold. 
Knowledge her dim face is hiding; she with 

stern Death cannot cope. 
Clutched by the grim hand of Destiny, gone is 

her watchword of Hope. 



All the bright eras of glory that down through 

the centuries roll, 
Are born from the womb of Despair, and Death 

is their terrible toll. 
Victory, shouting through trumpets, drowns 

the low cry of Defeat: 
Only the Echoes have heard her bemoan her 

dead L,ove's winding-sheet. 



Side by side through all ages, travel sorrow and 

joy, 
Gladness that's born for an hour, care hovers 

near to cestroy. 



20 



Light is fast followed by Darkness, as Life is 

pursued by swift Death 
King of the Shadows, who wieldeth his sceptre 

o'er all who draw breath. 

XVI 
And now the Sun 

Had risen high in Heaven, and I knew 
The hour had come when my dear Love and I 
Must leave out sweet retreat, and wander forth 
Into the open. For the tenure frail 
Which holds the Soul within its narrow bounds 
Must needs, in fasting, soon betray its trust. 
But ere we rose we watched a squirrel small 
Run gaily to a limb hung overhead, 
Where, sitting fearless, its thick brush and coat 
Of tawny red, and bright, dark-g!ist'ning eye 
Made such a spot of color and of life 
As to enthrall our fancy. Then with sound 
Of joyful chatter, swift it turned, and leaped 
Into the higher branches and was gone. 
That broke the spell of Silence; and forthwith 
We journeyed out from our dear resting-place 
And wandered homeward, through a shadowed 

walk 
Where the tall trees in meeting far o'erhead 
Formed a vast dome, as in Cathedral high: 
And gleams of shimmering sunlight flecked our 

path 
With patterns such as fair stained glass does 

cast 
Across dim aisles; and the sweet singing birds 
That called in plaintive echoes through the 

woods, 



21 



Alone broke all the holy stillness, where 
Our hearts made silent reverence, which was 
akin to prayer. 

XVII 

'Neath our feet 

Dried needles of the Pine made carpet soft, 
And noiseless were our footsteps where they fell: 
In deeper glades the snow-white mush-rooms 

grew 
With those of pinker shades, and tawny hue. 
Climbing about the stem of giant oak 
The w Id wood-bramble threw its straggling 

cloak; 
And fern-fronds peeped beneath the shaded 

trees, 
Securely hidden from each truant breeze. 
While hardy bracken as a sentinel stood 
O'er tender blossoms in that quiet wood. 
The grey-green lichen on a boulder spread, 
Gave softer outlines to its rugged head: 
And far within the covert, dappled deer 
For one brief second's time would there appear: 
Then, startled, into darker thicket leap, 
And vanish in the shadows greenly deep. 
The bright soft mosses covering buried stones 
Like velvet cushions lay our path beside, 
And dark with age, the last year's fallen cones 
In hollows of the ground lay brown and dried. 
A sweet wild-cherry's blossoms, as they fell, 
Threw flakes of snow upon us ere we left this 

bosky dell. 



22 



XVIII 

We passed the stile 

That led us into open fields again. 
Some fleecy clouds had gathered in the skies, 
Beside their whiteness Heaven seemed more 

blue, 
But never bluer than my dear Love's eyes, 
Those azure stars, unrivalled in their hue. 
The grasshopper among the grasses long 
Hopped briskly to and fro with noisy stir: 
The crickets sang their cheerful, chirping song 
And locusts flew, with idle, noisy whirr. 
Anon we paused to gather clover sweet 
Growing in clusters that perfumed the air; 
Its buds were drooping in the noon-day heat, 
A golden heat that made the earth more fair. 

XIX 

And slowly thus we wended on our way 

Until at last we entered those great gates 

Which bar the path to Gabrielle's demesne. 

And up the long and winding avenue, 

Pausing at last before a stately pile 

Whose wide and columned porch did it proclaim 

A relic of the old Colonial days. 

And having from my Lady taken leave 

I homeward passed; and that most perfect day 

For me did end, when she whom I conceived 

To be the sweet embodiment of Love 

Had with pure heart, and fair 3-oung beauty 

dight, 
Vanished like white-robed spirit from my long- 
ing sight. 



23 



THE CHAPDET OF SORROW 

Eife is a chaplet of Sorrows 
Of which the clasp is Death. 
The frail small links of Happiness 
Are shivered at a breath. 
Thus one by one are lost the pearls 
Which thread the slender chains; 
Till but the firm unbroken clasp 
Of Death, to us remains. 

DOVE'S RETREAT 

I banished Love from out my thoughts 
And bade him swift take flight, 
With drooping head, his wings he spread, 
And vanished from my sight. 

But soon I knew his hiding-place 
And felt his white winged dart; 
Not far he'd fled but straightway sped 
For refuge to my heart. 

THE RETURN OF SUMMER 

Down through the shimmering, shining aisles of 

Spring 
Young Summer comes to Earth, new gifts to 

bring. 

Beneath her feet blue violets blow 
And where she lightly passes, 
The daffodils all golden glow 
A.mong the new green grasses. 



24 



She touches with her finger-tips 
The tufted clumps of clover; 
And straight the bee rich honey sips 
From blossoms brimming over. 

She smiles upon the poppy-beds, 
Where sunbeams rest from playing, 
And painted beauties raise their heads: 
Fair lights-o'-love gone straying. 

She gazes with her gentian eyes 

Upon the budding hedges, 

Where brambles, climbing towards the skies, 

x\re flaunting ragged edges. 

The sweet syringa, stooping low, 
Her floating hair caresses. 
All perfumed are its blooms of snow 
By contact with her tresses. 

Her trailing robes of turquoise-green 
Are fringed with lilies golden: 
While daisies nestle neath their sheen, 
And whisper love-themes olden. 

But to the Rose a kiss she gives 

And on her breast it blooms and lives. 

Thus each fair June we hail this flower's 

birth 
And know that Summer dwells again on Earth. 



25 



THE LOVE-WRAITH 

I wandered alone on the shore, where the moon- 
rays white 

Spread o'er the flowing waters, their clear, 
pearled light. 

And adown the path from the dusky, green- 
deep-glade 

Floated a shape of beauty, — a rose-fair maid. 

Like shadowed vision of fancy, dimly sweet, 
Neared the echoless tread, of her small, 

sandalled, feet. 
And lo, as swift beside me she noiseless came, 
My soul was steeped in trembling, through a 

white love flame. 

I drew her to my heart, and her parted lips I 

pressed 
As her clinging, tender, weight lay soft against 

my breast, 
While I drank a Lethe-Nectar, from her eyes' 

deep wells, 
Within whose solemn mystery dim silence 

dwells. 

The floating, star-crowned, tresses of her dusky 
hair 

Framed a pale sad beauty, almost unearthly 
fair. 

And I felt from her dear sweetness it were as 
death to part, 

As I clasped her close, and closer, to my strain- 
ing heart. 



26 



I heard the green-rush shiver where the waters 

lapped, 
And the night in voiceless mystery was deeply 

wrapped; 
Till through the sighing tree-tops a wind-song 

swept, 
As low on the horizon gath'ring storm-clouds 

crept. 

Then mocking laughter sounded from false lips 

I had kissed, 
And the gracious form within my arms dissolved 

in mist: — 
It was but a fairy-wraith I had loved and wooed, 
The white and mystic Spirit of untroubled 

Solitude. 

TO AN EASTER LILY 

Fair Flower! Emblem of a spotless Soul 

Blooming in beauty set by Faith apart. 

Thy Saint-white loveliness has reached the goal 

Of pure oblation through thy golden heart. 

Thy perfumed chalice, consecrate to God, 

Is lifted high in adoration meet: 

The while thou hast in tender love bestowed 

Swung incense at thy Saviour's nail-pierced 
feet. 

Oh! teach me then the lesson of thy perfect 
life, 

Untouched by stain or sin, and free from world- 
born strife. 



27 



THE WILDFLOWER 

The sedgy grasses by the tiny pool 
Waved in the tender breeze of evening cool. 
And I was waiting 'neath the trystingtree 
For Katie, my dear love, to come to me. 

I heard her singing as she blithely crossed 
The brook that trickled through the meadow 

wide. 
And every moment seemed a jewel lost 
While yet my dear was absent from my side. 

"Oh! bonny Kate" I cried "Sweetheart make 

haste" — 
As meeting her beside the turning stile 
I slipped my arm around her lissom waist, 
And joyful caught her pretty, greeting smile. 

The dimples in her rosy cheeks 
Are prints of Cupid's fingers; 
And ever when she smiles or speaks 
The small God near them lingers. 

The blue sunbonnet on her chestnut hair 
She loosened, and the balmy evening air 
Rippled her curls and lifted them in play, 
While I was pleading for our marriage-day. 

The Moon was rising slowly o'er the hill — 
A full-orbed Queen in golden splendor dressed; 
Low was the tinkling murmur of the rill, 
And Katie's hand within mine own did rest. 

"Oh! nut-brown hand so gentle and so small" 
I cried, and clasped it closer in content; 



28 



And in the shadow of the chestnut tall 

Her fair head down against my shoulder leant. 

The nut-brown of her wavy hair 
With finest gold is threaded. 
I'll deck it out with white pearls rare 
When she and I are wedded. 

For Katie is a simple village maid 
With heart as pure as when a child she played. 
She knows not that I came of noble birth, 
But loves me, for what I through Love am 
worth. 

I will transplant this sweet and lovely flower 
And make her mistress of green acres wide: 
This blossom set within a fairer bower 
Will grow iu beauty, blooming by my side. 

These were the thoughts that flitted through 

my mind 
As, in the moonlight, neath the trysting tree, 
An answer in her face I sought to find, 
And strove her lovely, laughing, eyes to see. 

When she those two twin flow'rets blue 
From lashes dark unveileth, 
Beside their deep cerulean hue, 
The Heaven's azure paleth. 

The Whip-poor-will was sounding his sweet 

note 
From his retreat in woodlands far remote. 
The moon had risen higher in her course, 
And love had probed my being's inmost source. 



29 



No tender wild-rose, blooming in the shade, 
Was half so dainty in its blushing grace, 
As my pure-hearted little village-maid, 
Who raised her sweet eyes as I scanned her 
face. 

And in those lovely wells of living light 
I read my answer and her lips I pressed- — 
Her rosebud mouth enclosing pearls 

milk-white, — 
And drew my darling closer to my breast. 

Her dimpled face is sweetly gay 
With laughter brimming over. 
Her breath is like the flowering May 
Outvying perfumed Clover. 

As home we later went, my L,ove and I 
The myriad stars were shining far o'er head. 
A beamy brightness overspread the sky, 
And silvery moonlight round our path was shed. 

A fire of gladness did my sense pervade; 
E'er seven sunsets Kate my bride would be. 
Her promise in my soul such radiance made 
As when soft moonbeams wed the shining sea. 

And as the gracious Queen of Heaven waned 

low, 
A sinking splendor o'er a silent sphere, 
Time's finger touched the dial hand to show 
The hour of our parting, too, was near. 



30 



We said farewell beside the porch, 
In whispered words half-spoken. 
While Love held high his flaming torch 
Until the spell was broken. 

THE MOONBEAM AND THE STAR 

A bright Star sang to a Moon-beam 

A low and tender song. 

And the soft winds played on the hill-tops 

Where the grass waved green and long. 

The bonny Daisies listened, 

Tucked deep in their dewy beds; 

And their hearts drank in the music 

As they bowed their snowy heads. 

For the pleading sound of the Star-song, 
Floating trom Heaven to Earth, 
Was sweet as the voice of iEolian harp, 
Which the wind has brought to birth. 
And the Moonbeam, shyly hiding, 
In a flower's tender breast, 
Quivered with half-waked yearning 
To yield to its love's behest. 

The bright Star paled with longing 

For ivS throbbing heart's desire: 

And the Moonbeam thrilled and trembled 

As it first knew Eove's dear fire. 

Then out of its shadow creeping, 

To the waiting star it flew, 

And silence fell as they mingled 

And Life's completeness knew. 



3i 



DESPAIR 

Into a crystal Sea of Tears 

The river of Time flows down the years. 

The stream is narrow, and long, and deep, 

And its smoothest banks are rugged and steep. 

Though sunlit gleams fleck the water's breast. 

They are swiftly lost in a great unrest, 

Where the rapids of Sorrow foam and whirl, 

Engulfing Happiness in their swirl: 

On those dark reefs where are always found 

The wrecks of Hopes that have run aground. 

The skies may smile where the stream runs 

slow 
But the thunderbolt of pain 
Is lying in rest, where the clouds hang low 
In the gathering gloom, as the waters flow 
Into the sullen Main. 

And Grief will flash like a lightning dart, 
Into the core of an aching heart. 
When the storm has gathered across the sea 
That breaks on the shores of Eternity; 
Where the River of Time is lost to sight 
In the shadowed gloom of an endless night. 

PENTHESILEA 

Dark was the night, save, where in Heaven's 

Vault 
The myriad stars were gleaming, diamond 

bright, 
Like vivid jewels set in ebon crown. — 
Till from the East the Queenly Moon arose, 
And sailing lofty o'er the arched space, 



32 



Shone with a light so cold, so clear, so pure, 
The Stars, her subjects, dimmed and paled 

before her. 
Down on the Earth the streaming, bilvery flood 
Cast such fair radiance that the Echoes woke — 
— The Slumbering Echoes, bedded in deep 

clefts— 
And asked the Silence of the wondering Night 
If this indeed were Day. The voices then 
Of all the beauteous children of the Night 
Made answer, through the pulsing throbbing 

hush, 
That Day had gone to rest. And the white 

Moon 
Rose to her Zenith, and pursued her course 
Towards the horizon shadowed deeply black 
Against the western sky: while far beneath, 
Where touched the glory of her Majesty, 
A path across the waters shimmered fair 
As if the elves, with moonbeams for their ships, 
Were holding a regatta on the deep. 

It was the solemn hour that comes between 
The midnight, and the opalescent Dawn: 
And on the mountain tops of ancient Greece 
The clouds were resting, waiting for the morn 
When the great Sun, their mighty God should 

rise, 
And, by the power of his glance of fire 
Dissolve them into rain, or misty dew. 
And while the Moon was sinking to her rest, 
Penthesilea, all untouched by Sleep, 
Sat 'neath the shadow of a giant oak ; 
Nor yet the wondrous beauty of the scene 
Appealed to her! For in her inner mind 



33 



She saw alone the fatal dark resolve 
The morrow must fulfil. Her outward eye 
Rested, unseeing, on the hills below, 
Reaching, in undulations to the plains, 
Where must be fought that Morrow's deadly 

strife. 
The Queen of all the Amazons had sought 
This spot remote, in which to hold commune 
With her own heart, so filled with sad despair. 
Not that the thought of Battle was to her 
Ever unwelcome. She the child of Mars, 
A true descendent of her Heaven-born sire, 
Felt but the joy which every hero knows 
When with her flashing sword, and girt-up 

breasts, 
She plunged into the thickest of the fight. 

Nay! But she late had had a glorious dream 
And sudden rude awakening from sleep, 
— Or so she deemed it. She who was possessed 
Of God-like beauty, and whose courage high 
Had never yielded yet to fiercest foe. 
Had freely given up to Passion's Kiss 
Her charms in full surrender, with glad heart 
Believing that true Love was all in all. 
Alas! It had but proved a bitter-sweet 
That withered as she held it in her touch. 
Achilles, winner of her virgin heart 
Wearied, ere many moons had run their course, 
And the proud Queen, forsaken, had ta'en oath 
To follow him with vengeance to the death. 
Ivong had she waited near the plains of Troy 
Until Achilles joined the mighty fray 
Fought over one fair woman, in whose cause 
The blood of thousands poured like fountaius 
free, 

34 



So that all Earth resounded with the tale. 
Penthesilea, on the mountain-side, 
Gloomily brooded over all her wrong, 
And longed to hate Achilles yet the more. 
But as the hour drew near when he perchance 
By her own hand would meet a bloody doom, 
— For so she had sworn it — vhen her woman's 

heart 
Kept soft repeating "He is still your Love!" 
And she with fierce resistance strove to quell 
The tumult in her overladen breast. 
She knew the secret spot which rendered him, 
Her traitor-love, to mortals vulnerable. 
How, when his Mother plunged him in the 

Styx, 
His one heel had alone remained untouched 
By the strange waters of the infernal stream 
Of which to taste is certain death to man. 
And brooding thus, the Amazonian Queen 
Like some fair Statue of a Goddess seemed 
Placed on the mount by Heaven's bounty kind, 
That worshippers might come before her shrine, 
And in the beauty of the silent hills 
Adore in Nature, Nature's mighty God. 

Strange that man builds his temples in the mart 
Of teeming civilization; — where the streams 
Of barter and of traffic circling past. 
Call souls to Earth, — not Heaven! — Rather 

should 
They choose some spot of Solitude and peace 
Where the Great Forces, all invisible, 
Are potent to possess and thrill the mind, 
And fill it with a longing for the things 
Not of this world alone. Penthesilea thus 
Musing on what the morrow did conceal 

35 



Saw the great Dawn awake, and lightly touch 
The Mountains' crests with tinge of purple 

faint; 
Then paint the sky in shades of golden-pink, 
Fit for reception of the Glorious God 
Who at his first appearance in the east, 
Caused Day to blush into existence; when 
Back rolled the clouds, and all the azure field 
Of Heaven, couch of the resplendent Sun 
Revealed stood, and Battle had begun. 

Penthesilea, down the mountain then 
Sprang fleet as deer that seeks to join the herd 
After an absence forced. And with her band 
Of maiden-warriors, summoned by her call 
Flew o'er the plains, and into thickest fight 
Where great Achilles, godly beautiful 
Towered above the conflict, as a Star 
Of magnitude outshines those lesser orbs 
Of paler light by which it is surrounded. 
She with her Amazons fought valiant till she 

stood 
And laced the warrior. All unwitting he 
Saw not that she was there, nor yet that one 
Who knew the secret where his weakness lay 
Was placed to use it. But beholding him 
Close at her side, in all his manly strength, 
Her heart was sudden melted, and she dropped 
The weapon she had sharpened for his doom. 
He, blinded by the lust of Battle, turned 
And smiting, ere he recked or whom or what, 
Struck such a mighty blow, that down she sank 
And, dying, gave one sad and swan-like call, 
"Achlles! Faithless one! I love thee still." 
He heard, and madly leaping to her side, 

36 



Swift caught the Queenly form in close 

embrace; 
And seeing all the glory of her eyes 
Darkened in throes of Death: and her dusk hair 
Falling about her, 'neath her shattered helm, 
He uttered an exceeding bitter cry — 
"Penthesilea! Nay! But speak to me. 
Oh! Rather had i felt from mine own heart 
The life-blood flow, than see thee in such strait. 
Penthesilea! Speak! — Alas! Thou'rt gone. 
A curse upon the hand that smote this blow. 
Ay! Even will I curse my very soul 
That I have wrought this sorry deed of woe; 
To have slain a thing so fair. Ah! dear, my 

Love, 
Could my poor body lie in place of thine 
How gladly would I yield me to my doom." 
And bearing her from out the thick-set fray, 
Thus the great warrior, humbled in his grief, 
Bowed o'er the form of her whose love for him 
Had been her own undoing All the past 
Opened before him, and he felt the sting 
Of that envenomed scorpion Remorse. 
Oh! When from eyes all blinded by great grief 
The scalding tears refuse to longer flow, 
Then that insiduous reptile doth possess 
And rack our brains with torment for each look, 
Each word that might have best been left 

unsaid, 
And driving men to madness, still will strive 
To sting yet deeper. Thus Achilles felt 
A woe that would for aye his soul impress, 
While keeping vigil there beside the dead. 
Till o'er his anguish kindly, gentle Night 
Drew the soft mantle of her shadowed veil 



37 



And Sleep possessed him. Sleep the highest 

gift 
Of all the Gods to Mortals when in pain 
Of mind or body. Sleep that gives to man 
A foretaste of the Everlasting Rest. 



PERSEPHONE'S FOOTSTEPS 

CERES, A FRAGMENT 

Ere Pinto's rape of Ceres' daughter fair, 
While glorious Spring breathed incense in the 

air, 
Where sweet Persephone unconscious strayed 
Beside the fountain rippling in the shade, 
Each step she took upon the new, green grass 
Leit print of Violets, as she swift did pass. 
And where she kneeled to gather near the rill, 
The golden-blooming, fatefnl daffodil, 
White lilies of the valley sprang to birth, 
Where her light weight had rested close to 

earth. 
Ceres, beholding these new blossoms fair, 
Earth's tribute to her daughter's beauty rare, 
Was joyed to make their loveliness complete, 
And crowned them with a perfnme richly sweet. 
'Tis thus each Springtime, we returning see 
The traces of the lost Persephone. 



38 



AFTERMATH 

Bluebells and fern-leaves 
Deep in a woodland hollow ! 
She gathers them into her lap, my Sweet ! 
And I gaze in her eyes as I lie at her feet. 
Beautiful eyes of Love's own hue : 
Which I in my passionate pleading seek, 
And read there the answer she does not speak, 
In the limpid depths of their Violet-blue- 
And wedding-bells will follow ! 

Bluebells and fern-leaves 

Low on a green grave growing ! 

She lies in God's Acre, My Bride, My Sweet! 

And the lilies droop their heads at her feet. 

But when high at night, in the heavenly blue 

The Stars shine softly, I know that then 

She is gazing at me: and soon again 

We shall meet in the Land beyond the view, 

Where the River of Life is flowing. 



LOST LOVE 

I wandered seeking Love one night 
Through the Valley of Desire : 
And I called on his name with a heart of flame 
And a pulse of throbbing fire. 

But though I searched the whole night long 
Sweet Love I did not see. 
So I gathered the flowers of Passion's hours, 
And the fruit of the evil tree. 



39 



At last one day Dove sought me out 
To lead me through his bowers ; 
And I knew too late, it had been my fate, 
To kill his fairest flowers. 

For the snow-white blooms of Innocence 
Were all or crushed or stained : 
And tears I shed that their petals dead 
Alone to me remained. 



THE DEAD DAY 

Fair Day is dead and the twil'ght dim, 
Cloaked in a mantle of misty gray, 
Breathes o'er the bier an uuworded hymn 
Bemoaning her love that has passed away. 

The air is heavy with incense rare 
Swung by the silently-sorrowing flowers ; 
Floating to Heaven their requiem prayer 
With tears of dew, for the dear lost hours. 

Slowly comes Night with the funeral pall 
Laying it over the dead one's breast. 
Solemnly lighting the candles tall 
Which Stars hold high o'er the corse in rest. 

Shadow to Darkness has given full birth. 
Twilight has noiselessly crept away. 
Silence is wrapped round the sorrowing earth, 
Mourning the loss of the fair dead Day. 



40 



LIFE 

Light ships afloat on a misty Sea 

With pain in store. 
Anchored by Love from Eternity 

To Time's bleak shore. 

The ropes that moor them to Happiness 

Are cobwebs frai! : 
111 can they bear the strain and stress 

Of Sorrow pale. 

The cable of Hope from the anchor slips 

All worn by tears. 
And out to sea drift the frail white ships 

Mid doubts and fears. 

But as Death's cold tide in the cruel night 

Bears them away, 
Who knows where they go as they pass from 
sight 

Into Distance grey ? 



4i 



HOPE 

Through the dim Valley of Tears there drifts 
A sunbeam small called Hope. 
At its touch, from the hollows the mist uplifts 
Disclosing the glooms, through the openiug 

rifts, 
Where the shades of Sadness grope. 
But as Love's white rays throw a hallowed light 
Over the silent vale, 
The spectre of Sorrow fades from sight 
As the waning night grows pale. 
Then the dawn of Happiness fills the air 
With a tremulous, golden glow, 
And the pitiful phantoms evoked by Care 
Into the past, must go. 

While the Future is painted in roseate hues 
Bv the touch of a waking Joy, 
Whose magic gifts through the heart diffuse 
Aud the ghosts of Pain destroy. 



42 



A LEGEND OF THE ISLES OF SHOALS 

Down off the fair New England coast 
Where the mighty Ocean rolls 
Rugged and free and girt by the sea 
Lie the lovely Isles of Shoals. 

Low they rest mid the heaving Main 

Where the breakers toss in glee, 

And the wave that roars on their rock-bound 

shores 
Sings the song of the open sea. 

The cry of the Sea-gulls echoes shrill 
And the surf booms on the shore, 
As the tossing spray leaps high in play 
On the clifts of Appledore. 

But the waters clear, round that rocky coast, 

When they sink to a peaceful sleep 

Neath the shimmering light of the sunbeams 

bright 
Are as sapphires, blue and deep. 

And when dark at night on the open Main 
A Sea-tossed vessel rolls. 
It hails the light that is flashing white 
From the far-off Isles of Shoals. 

Beautiful spot so rugged and wild 
A Gem of the Glorious Sea 
Whether at rest on its heaving breast 
Or lashed by its Tempest-glee. 

Having the beauty of these Islands sung, 
Whose deeper waters, hugging close their 
shores, 

43 



Do seem to take a richer tint of blue 

When sunlight smiles upon their waves in calm; 

As though the sky had stooped to kiss in love 

Her fair reflection on the Ocean's face, 

And left her image mirrored in his heart ; — 

I will relate, how on these lonely rocks, 

Long years ago, a tragedy befell 

Upon that Isle long called Dark Smuttynose. 

There, once did live, some simple fisher folk 

In cabins built above a tiny bay 

Where Seaweed, undulating neath the wave, 

Cast purple shadows on the deepened green 

Of the slow-pulsing Sea. This inlet gave 

Protection 'gainst the storms that swept those 

shores 
When the great Ocean, loosing all his chains 
And rising lo exert his mighty strength, 
Swept in hugh breakers, roaring with fierce joy 
Over those cliffs that did his Majesty 
Dare to defy, with sullen heads in air. 
One summer then, on gloom}' Smuttynose 
Two fisherman above that inlet dwelt. 
Brothers, they were and one was newly wed ; 
The other had a babe as well as wife. 
Their cabins stood together, side by side, 
Humble, though dear to those poor fisher-folk 
As were a palace to anointed King; 
For home is home or be it great or small. 
With him who had the child, a sister lived ; 
Grethel her name, and she was fair as good, 
A gentle girl the comfort of his wife 
Who shared with her the care of that sweet 

babe, 
The living sunbeam in their life of toil. 



44 



One afternoon when calm the Ocean lay, 
Though clouds were massed in greyness 

hanging low 
Near the horizon, the brothers twain set forth 
Within their tiny fishing-smack to sea. 
Their hearts with hope beat high for that same 

week 
A mighty haul had by their nets been made : 
"And," thought they, "if this good should 

chance ago in 
The wives will have fresh comforts for the 

homes." 
And thus they laughed and jested in content, 
Fair planning for those dear ones left behind. 
Alas ! They little recked that envious greed 
Could so possess the heart of one vile man, 
Their whilom friend, that he should watch and 

wait 
For chance to rob the gains of their late spoil. 
A Judas — whom themselves had gladly told 
Their most unusual fortune at the nets 
By which they'd earned a trifling sum above 
Their ordinary wage. But so it fell : 
And on the day of which I now do write 
When the small smack was far away at sea 
With the two fishers toiling at their nets, 
The longed-for time had come for that black 

soul. 
When darkness had upon those cabin homes 
Descended like a very funeral pall, 
A boat sped noisless, towards the rocky shore 
Of the lone inlet. In the cabins twain 
No light there shone, for wearied with the day 
The fishers' wives had early gone to rest, 
And Grethel, too, was sunk in deep repose. 



45 



They heard no sound, nor recked that 

crouching form 
Creeping so stealthily towards the first small 

house 
Where dwelt the new-made wife. A fair young 

thing 
She slept and dreamed her husband at her side, 
And turned to clasp her arms about his neck, 
When, with a groan, she f?l.t her life's blood 

gush 
Forth from her heart, and on her throat a hand 
Crushed back the cry that to her lips had risen. 
One struggle faint, and that young life had t-ped 
From Dreamland into Death. The murderer 

then 
Slowly about the tiny cabin groped 
But found not that on which his soul was set; 
So, with grim purpose fixed in his foul heart, 
He to the other house did wend his way, 
Again to barter human lives for gold : 
And entering the chamber of his friend 
Where slept that friend's loved wife, he 

murdered her 
With cruel blade plunged in her tender breast. 
But the poor babe awoke, and startled cried : 
When, with a mighty oath, the inhuman wretch 
Having no pity in his heart of stone 
Lighted a candle, and did swift proceed 
To stab that little unprotected one. 
A sudden scream of anguished terror wild 
As he had done this thing unspeakable 
Startled him, and he dropped the red-dyed 

knife 
And swiftly turned. There in the doorway 

framed 



46 



He the white face of Grethel did behold ; 
With staring eyes, she seemed as turned to 

stone. 
The fiend incarnate stooped to seize the knife 
To swift complete his work of butchery, 
But when he rose, and leapt towards the door, 
Grethel had vanished into outer night. 
With curses deep, he running did pursue 
The flying figure of the white-robed girl 
Until at last she faded from his sight : 
For all the night was black as darkest Hell 
And the low booming of the restless Sea 
Sounded a dirge upon the rocky shore : 
And Grethel knew where she had oft in sport 
Hidden herself among the gloomy caves 
That honeycomb the cliffs of Smuttynose : 
And here she ran, unreasoning, in flight, 
Guided by instinct, and a refuge sought. 
And as she gained the deepest of those caves 
Groping her way across the boulders strewn 
About it's entrance, lo ! a whining cry 
Broke on her ear, and at her naked feet 
All cut and bruised by the sharp rocks she'd 

crossed. 
A tiny dog fawned whimpering. At the sound 
Grethel with fear had all but swooned to death. 
She heard the murderer stumbling in her wake 
And knew if once he found her hiding-place 
Her fate was sealed. Swift, stooping, she did 

lift 
The tiny dog — it had belonged to Use 
The babe, who ne'er would play with it again — 
And held it to her breast. Then further pressed 
Within the cavern and sank slow to earth ; 
Though still she swooned not, but held close the 

dog 

47 



And ever and anon she put her lips 
To its' small head, and its' soft ears caressed. 
For it would start and whimper like a child 
Without such petting : — and poor Grethel felt — 
With inward shuddering at such consciousness, — 
That if the demon, hunting for the spot 
Where she lay hidden, heard the beast's low 

cry, 
That deadly knife would still her own poor 

heart. 
Thus all night through the murderer vainly 

searched 
The gloomy grottoes, for he knew full well 
Grethel had seen him do that foul deed 
Of murder, for which he would surely hang, 
Unless he ended her young life and testimony. 
But as it were though some high miracle, 
He ever missed the entrance to that cave 
In which the hapless girl lay close concealed. 
Then darkness into dawn began to melt 
And that most dastard, fearing light and day 
Lest the two fishers should return to find 
Their blasted homes and he their blaster there, 
Sought out his boat, and pulled towards open 

When Grethel heard the splashing of the oars 
The nervous tension of her o'er wrought frame 
Gave way, and fainting, prostrate down she fell. 
She never knew how long she lay in swoon 
When after hours of watching, as she deemed, 
She heard her brothers at the landing-place. 
She had not ventured forth before nor stirred, 
But starting forward at the welcome sound 
Her brothers' voices made in that dread spot 
She slowly forced her way with stiffened joints, 

48 



Into their presence. Nor did she then know 
Her hair was blanched as white as driven snow. 

Thus ends the tale. I can not here set forth 

In ink too pale to write, the vengeance sworn 

By those poor fishers on the murderer ; 

The blighter of their simple happiness, 

Who had committed those most hellish crimes. 

Alone I add that he his fate did meet 

In time appointed by the hangman's rope 

After a full confession of his sins. 

And ever has the Isle of Smuttynose 

Since that most dreadful night been called 

'the dark' 
The one black spot upon the Isles of Shoals, 
Whose beauty as the ocean round them rolls 
I have endeavored feebly here to sing ; 
For rhymes are echoes, Flights from Fancy's 

wing, 
Which vainly strive to show the loveliness 
Of Nature, in her ever-glorious dress. 



49 



DEAD LOVE 

I met sweet Iyove one stormy night, 
His face was wet with tears ; 
For tempest- tossed, his path he'd lost, 
And Passion mocked his fears. 

I, pitying, drew him to my heart 
And kissed his bandaged eyes. 
And in my breast he sank to rest 
As dove that homing flies. 

Till wearied of the tender weight 
I cast him forth again. 
Passion had fled ; Desire was dead, 
And Love was only pain. 

But when he'd gone his loss I felt ; 
And, prizing him too late 
I sought and found him sorrow-crowned, 
Beside Death's gloomy gate. 

He vanished, and in bitter pain 
Taught by Remorse, I knew 
That cruel Fate had oped Death's gate, 
And L,ove had swiftpassed through. 



50 



THE ROSARY 

Life holds a fair white rosary, 

Each pearl is one pure thought, 

The slender chains on which they rest 

Of Innocence are wrought. 

From these is swung the crucifix 

Of Self-denial strong 

Inlaid with dazzling gems of Faith 

And Love that knows no wrong. 

To chosen souls this rosary 

Without a price, is lent, 

And must be worn with humble heart, 

By those to whom 'tis sent : 

That it may be returned at last, 

With never spot or stain 

To mar its beauty white, and pure, 

When claimed by Life again. 



THE HYMN OF THE LIEIES 

Sweet L,ily-bells, 
Let now your joyous notes be pealing. 
Christ's risen power for all healing 

Your news foretells. 
Alleluia ! 

Soft, soft and clear 
Fair flowers of Mary, speed your ringing, 
That Heaven's triumphant chorus singing 

All Earth may hear. 
Alleluia ! 



5i 



In every heart 
Let the soft echo of your numbers 
Waken the joy that never slumbers 

Nor can depart. 
Alleluia ! 

Blossoms so sweet, 
Yet e'en a sweeter message giving. 
Chiming "Christ reigns immortal; living 

His own to greet' ' 
Alleluia ! 

Flowers snow-white, 
Emblems of purity, forever 
Teach earth to reach by true endeavor 

Heaven's delight. 
Alleluia ! 

Sweet Lily-bells, 
By the soft music ye are pealing 
Ye are to earth-worn hearts revealing 

Love. Love immortal, love that risen 
From the Tomb's portal to the skies, 

Leads weary souls from out the prison 
Of worldly care, until they rise 

Free, in the glory of our Saviour-Lord. 

Ring, ring your story then with one accord 
Sweet Lily-bells. 

Alleluia ! Alleluia ! Alleluia ! 



52 



A SONG OF JUNE 

In leafy June 

The Robins sing a sweeter, tenderer song, 

And daisies fleck the meadows with their 

whiteness : 
The bees hum midst the flowers all day long, 
Where sunbeams dancing, shed their golden 

brightness. 

In leafy June 

The Humming-birds that flit from bud to flower, 
Are living jewels in the warm light gleaming : 
The butterflies, so brilliant for an hour, 
Are floating blossoms through the ether 
streaming. 

In leafy June 

The wild Canary calls his tiny mate ; 

Midst Honey-suckle deep their nest is hidden; 

The Chestnut blooms are spread like feast of 

State, 
To which the bees and butterflies are bidden, 

In leafy June 

The buttercups, a splash of living gold 

Gleam brightly from the lush green of the 

grasses; 
And lilac blooms their hidden sweets unfold, 
A clustered richness no bright hue surpasses. 



53 



In leafy June 

The clouds rest whiter in the Heaven's blue : 
Myriad perfumes sweet the air are filling, 
And soft is heard the Ring-Dove's gentle coo, 
While Blackbirds, in the woods, their notes 
are trilling. 

In leafy June 

The flaming Tulips with their hearts aglow, 
From garden beds their colors gay are flaunting. 
And sweet Syringa blooms like summer snow, 
While Peonies their crimson robes are vaunting. 

In leafy June 

The Queen of Flowers blooms and in her name 
Is crowned all the Summer's fair completeness : 
The Crimson Roses, with their hearts of flame, 
And their pale sisters, drooping white in 
sweetness. 

In leafy June 

The droning hum of insects in the air, 
The Sun-rays that like golden arrows quiver, 
All Life, acknowledging that Farth is Fair, 
At Nature's shrine will bless the bounteous 
Giver, 

In leafy June. 



54 



SLEEPY TIME SONGS 



SLUMBER-SONG 

A wee boat is sailing to Lullaby-Land, 
— Sleep little Love on my heart — 

Led by the Dustman's invisible hand 
You too are ready to start. 

Moonbeams will shine where the soft waves of 
sleep 

Lazily rock you to rest. 
Babies in Dreamland forget how to weep ! 

— Cuddle then Sweet to my breast. — 

Fair filmy clouds from the dim Slumber-vale 

Float o'er the rippling sea; 
Foamy the wake of the ship as 3^ou sail : 

— Rest little Bird on my knee. — 

Soft the night-air by the Dream-breezes fanned 

Whispers a secret of charm; 
— Safely at last in the Lullaby-Land 

Sleep little Dear on my arm. — 



THE DREAM-SWING 

The moon hung low in a silver sky 

Swinging by ropes of gold; 

Ready to bear to the Sleep-land fair 

The charge of the Dustman old. 

She clasped two wee ones with ruffled curls, 

Which the rippling breezes fanned, 

As the joyous crew through the bright night 

flew 
At a touch from the Dustman's hand. 



57 



Higher and higher the golden swing 

Rose till it reached the skies; 

Where the stars at play, in the Milky way, 

Twinkled with laughing eyes. 

Hide-and-go-seek was the game they played 

Mid clouds of a foamy white, 

Where Rainbows grew out of Drops of Dew 

Distilled by the Sunbeams bright. 

A gay little wind came fluttering past 

Winging its way to the Sea. 

It had left its nest in the shimmering west 

For a romp on the ocean free. 

It laughed as it gently touched the swing 

Which rested so high in air; 

And its' pinions light blew the soft curls bright 

Of the wee ones' tangled hair. 

All night the moon watched over the two 

As the hours went floating by, 

Till a soft pink flush made the foam-clouds 

blush 
High in the silver sky. 

Then back to Karth flew the golden swing, 
Through the Sleep-Land's shining lane; 
And the Dustman smiled as he kissed each 

child, 
And carried them home again. 



THE FAIRIES LINEN 

The filmy fine spun linen 
Which the fairies weave each night 
Is washed in pearly dew-drops 
While the day is dawning bright. 

58 



They take the first small Sunbeams 
To filter through the dew: 
These tint the threads, where moonrays 
Are broidered richly through. 

The webs are all of gossamer 
As frail as they are fair; 
But the fairies always dry them 
In the perfumed summer air. 

So they stretch them o'er the meadows 
Where a tiny breeze will pass : 
But we only call them cobwebs, 
When we see them on the grass. 



THE WISHING-BIRD 

The wishing-bird lives in a garden fair, 

Where the Sun shines all day long : 

And when once away from the Land of Day 

You can hear his beautiful song. 

His voice is the sweetest you ever have known, 

And his feathers are all of gold. 

You can see them shine in the lofty pine, 

Where he swings in the garden old. 

He has been there for hundreds and hundreds 

of years, 
And every single night 
When the clock strikes eight, through the 

garden gate 
Troop little ones all in white. 



59 



They have come to see the wonderful bird, 

And search for his feathers of gold, 

Neath the tall pine-tree where he swings in 

glee, 
In the beautiful garden old. 

For if a feather you chance to find 

You may wish for whatever you please, 

And as soon as you do it will all come true 

And the only conditions are these — 

You may play in the garden all night long, 

With the treasures of that bright land, 

But the feather of gold you must tightly hold 

In the clasp of your dimpled hand. 

So if you would go to that garden fair, 

And search for this wonderful prize, 

When Daylight has sped, you must nestle in 

bed 
And softly close your eyes. 
And soon you will hear the beautiful song 
Of the bird with the shining wings, 
From his home so free, in the tall pine-tree, 
Where he gaily sits and swings. 

HEARTSEASE 

"Tell me sweet pansies," cried a little maiden. 
"Where do you get your glowing hearts of 

gold?" 
"Our hearts" the flowers replied, "are ever 

laden 
With hnmble love and trust, oh dear wee 

maiden 
And thus our petals true heartsease enfold." 

60 



DANDELIONS 

Little yellow dandelions, every spring I watch 

you grow 
Coming first like gleams of sunshine, then you 

change to tufts of snow. 
Children love to cull your blossoms, as they 

glimmer in the grass : 
Golden nets, where waiting fairies catch the 

sunbeams as they pass. 

When your tufts of downy whiteness in the 

meadows next appear 
They are called the "clocks of summer" 

blowing through the early year. 
Little zephyrs tell the hours, which so lightly 

float away; 
Winged by Time they softly vanish, while the 

breezes round them play. 

LULLABY 

Sleep little ruffly, fluffly bird 

Safe in your downy white nest. 

Nought need you fear, while your Mother is 

near, 
Crooning her darling to rest. 

Drowsy white eyelids droop lower and close 
Over the winkety eyes. 

Mother-bird sings, and beneath her soft wings 
Sheltered her little one lies. 

A soft little wind comes fluttering near, 
— Zephyry violet breeze. — 
Kissing the cheek of the wee one asleep, 
As it wings through the whispering trees : 

61 



The Moon too is sending a message of Love 
On twinkly golden beams. 
They fly to the nest of the birdie at rest 
Bearing her beautiful dreams. 

High over earth floats the scent of the flowers, 
— Perfumy blossoming Stars. — 
Breathing in air a soft fragrance of prayer, 
Through tremulous nebulous bars. 

So sleep little bird in your nest of soft down, 
Mother-bird watches and sings. 
While she is near, you have nothing to fear, 
Safe, neath her shadowing wings. 

THE MAGIC GATE 

Through the gate of Close-your-eyes, 
You can reach those bright blue skies, 
Which you've often wished to see, 
Gazing at them from my knee. 
With the clouds, you too may play 
Floating on them far away. 

Through the gate of Close-your-eyes 
High and higher you can rise, 
Till you see the bright stars glow 
In the shadows far below; 
While you soar through Distance dim 
Seated on a Moon-beam's rim. 

Through the gate of Close-your-eyes 
Drawn by two bright butterflies 
At the rainbows you may peep, 
While they're lying fast asleep, 
On a cloud of silver grey, 
Waiting for a rainy day. 
62 



Through the gate of Close-your-eyes 
You may watch the Dawn arise. 
See her dressed in pearly hue 
Rush across the sky to you; 
While the Sun with merry voice 
Calls the morning to rejoice. 

Through the gate of Close-your-ej^es 
All the land of Fancy lies. 
So, my dearest, cuddle warm, 
With your head on Mother's arm; 
And while thus she sings to you 
Ere you dream it you'll pass through 
The gate of Close-your-eyes. 

THE SUNBEAM'S HIDING-PLACE 

The little sunbeams gay and bright 

In Brenda's laughter dwelling, 
All vanished when the tear-drops came, 

A rainy day foretelling. 

But when she smiled the little rogues 

Returned in manner simple; 
They'd lingered very near at hand 

All hidden in her dimple. 

THE SECRET 

The little yellow dandelion blooming 'neath 

the hill, 
Has whispered to the buttercup that nods 

beside the rill; 
A tiny wind has listened while the fiow'ret 

told her tale : 
With wings outspread, he bears the news across 

the distant Vale. 

63 



The daisy in the meadow has poised her head 

to hear 
The secret that the zephyr is confiding to her 

ear. 
A bonny, bright-eyed robin has caught the 

whisper low, 
And soon he sings it blithely that all the world 

may know. 

"Spring has vanished, Spring has vanished ! 
Summer fair has come to stay. 
Spring has vanished, Spring has vanished ! 
June's first rose has bloomed to-day." 



THE PALACE OF DELIGHT 

When the gates of Sleep are opened, bands of 

little ones in white 
Through them troop to seek the Palace of the 

Kingdom of Delight : 
Soon they reach the shining towers, where the 

Fairy Princess dwells; 
Built of clouds, all edged with sunbeams, high 

among the Dreamy-dells. 

All the Palace doors are open, and they see the 

Princess fair, 
With her crown of glittering jewels in her 

flowing golden hair, 
And they follow where she leads them through 

her brightest garden bowers, 
Where the tiny stars are growing, — lovely 

brilliant Dreamland flowers. 



64 



When they step into the Palace, little Moon- 
beams with them play, 

While the Shadows slily chase them, and as 
quickly hide away. 

All the rainbows stored in Cloudland, shine 
with joy such fun to see, 

And the lovely Fairy Princess claps her small 
white hands in glee. 

By and by the little Moonbeams swift must fly 

away to bed, 
And the Rainbows hide their colors. Dawn is 

breaking overhead. 
Then the Princess leads the children to the 

gates of Sleep once more, 
And with sweet farewells and tender, sees them 

cross to Day's white Shore. 

THE FAIRIES' SPINNING 

In the dusk of summer evening, 
When the moon-beams hang in air, 
You will see the fairies spinning 
Dainty garments soft and fair. 
And they weave the golden star-light 
Through their webs of spotless white, 
That the shimmering lacy fabric 
May shine far athwart the night. 

When you see a diamond glitter 
Where the trees are shadowed dark, 
You will say it is a glow-worm 
As you watch the tiny spark. 
But it really is the turning 
Of some fairy's star-lit wheel, 
Which the filmy broidered dresses 
Shining softly, thus reveal. 

65 



THE CROW'S SONG 

Up on the top of the old Pine-tree 
Where the black crow built his nest 
High in the air, and hidden with care 
The little crows safely rest. 
And— 

"Caw — Caw — Caw — ' ' 
Who so merry as we ? 

Cries the old black crow from his nest so high 
On the top of the tall pine-tree. 

The three little crows cuddle soft and warm 
Whenever the raindrops fall. 
Snug in the shade of green branch laid 
They fear no storm at all. 
And— 

"Caw — Caw — Caw — " etc. 

When the blustering wind roars through the 

woods 
The branches bend and sway. 
But the old Pine-tree guards well the three, 
And they think it is only play. 

And— 

"Caw — Caw — Caw — " etc. 

And when sun shines bright, and the world is 

gay, 
The three in the lofty nest, 
Can peep at the sky, while at home they lie, 
With a sunbeam for their guest. 
And— 

"Caw — Caw — Caw — " 
Who so merry as we ? 

Cries the old black crow from his nest so high 
On the top of the tall Pine-tree. 
66 
LofC. 



WHERE SUN -SHADES GROW 

While the blossoms fair are blowing, 
— Roses, pinks, and Violets blue. — 
Deep within their hearts are glowing 
Golden sunbeams tipped with dew. 
And they gather from the flowers 
Ere the lovely tints have sped, 
Hues to deck the sunset hours : 
Painting clouds, hung far o'erhead. 

When your sweetest blooms have faded, 
If you watch the summer sky, 
You will see their colors shaded 
Through the rainbows set on high. 
Or where Dawn is softly breaking 
All their beauty richly glows, 
While the clouds in turn are taking, 
Tints of violet, pink, and rose. 



67 



THE DREAM-RABBIT 

Chasing the rabbit of Sleep every night, 
Go four little men in soft jackets of white. 
Two of the hunters wear brown through the day, 
And both of the others are clad in dark grey. 

Just as the clock in the nursery strikes eight, 
Little white jackets slip through Sleepy-gate : 
Swiftly before them the Dream-rabbit flies, 
Over the country where Slumberland lies. 

Gaily they follow him all through the night 
Till, with the morning, he jumps out of sight. 
When he has vanished, they home again run. 
Sleepy-gate closes, at touch of the Sun. 

Four little hunters, at call of Daylight 
Quickly will doff their soft jackets of white. 
Let the Dream-rabbit run fast as he may, 
Not one will seek for him, all through the day. 

Eyelids are soft little jackets so white 
Closed over sleepy, sweet eyes every night. 
When the Gray Dustman has opened Sleep's door 
Swiftly they chase the Dream-rabbit once more. 



68 



CRADLE SONG 

Hushaby My Baby Sweet 
Shimmering Moonbeams quiver, 
Angels wait to guide thy feet 
Over Sleep's fair river. 
I can hear their rustling wings 
As they softly fold them, 
While thy Mother rocks and sings 
Can'st thou Sweet, behold them ? 

Sleep and rest in By-lo-land 
Whither Angels lead thee. 
Loose thy clasp, thou dimpled hand ! 
Mother's kisses speed thee. 
Brightest dreams surround thy head 
Darling in thy slumber, 
Angels whispering o'er thy bed 
To a tuneful number. 

Hushaby ! Till Morn shall rise 
Sleep on without waking ; 
Soft lids closing o'er thy eyes, 
Till the Dawn is breaking. 
Lashes darkening thy fair cheek 
Then will lightly quiver ; 
Through the night, my darling seek 
Peace, o'er Sleep's fair River. 



69 



THE CONCERT 

Down in the field mid the daisies and clover 
A Concert is going which lasts the day long : 
Grasshopper green, such a gay, jolly, rover, 
Fills all the air with his comical song. 

Stout Bumble-bee, in his waistcoat of yellow, 
Thunders his bass in a ponderous tone. 
He is a very quick-tempered old fellow ; 
He will .sing only a tune of his own. 

Then comes the treble of little Miss Cricket 
Chirping "Be cheerful ! There's no need to fret!" 
Katy-did's voice from the neighbouring thicket 
Joins to hers in a merry duet. 

There by the pool where his family is staying 
Sounds the low boom of the Bullfrog's big drum. 
Gay little Tree-frog his fife too is playing : 
Orchestra they to the Flies' joyful hum. 

Hark to the sound of the numerous voices, 
Singing so loudly in merry refrain, 
Chorus o'er which all glad Nature rejoices 
" Beautiful summer has come once again. " 



70 



HUSHABY 

Sleep little velvety Dove on my heart, 

Droop your soft eyelids in rest. 

Fear nought of harm while your Mother's warm 

arm 
Gathers you close to her breast. 

Little waves lapping along the low shore 
Whisper a drowsy-sweet song : 
Softly they flow where the green rushes grow 
Dreaming the hours along. 

Gently the moon as she rocks in the sky 
Lulls the wee birdies to sleep. 
To my white Dove, she is crooning in love, 
While the bright Stars their watch keep. 

Slowly comes Night in her dim clinging gown 
Kissing the slumbering flowers. 
Sweetly she sings, and a dream-cloud she brings, 
From the far Land of Lost Hours. 

Velvety Dove, cuddle close to my heart 
Droopy soft eyelids in rest. 

Mother's warm arm will protect you from harm 
Sleeping so safe on her breast. 



7i 



APR U 1903 



